


210: Stronger Than Magic

by harlequin (julie)



Series: Season 2 [10]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-03
Updated: 2009-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Merlin and Arthur have learned something about love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	210: Stronger Than Magic

♦

Merlin knocked quietly at the prince’s door late that night, and carefully put his head in. He had for once honestly been expecting Arthur to have already settled for the night, and to not want Merlin’s assistance. But the prince was still dressed and sitting in his chair, sombrely pondering. He saw Merlin almost immediately, and beckoned, sitting up properly as if putting aside his thoughts. ‘Ah, Merlin. Good. Come in.’

‘Yes, sire.’ Merlin began the usual nightly routine: pouring water into a bowl for the prince to wash, fetching a fresh set of linens –

‘No, leave all that for now,’ Arthur said. ‘Come here and sit with me.’

This was an unusual request. It wasn’t that Merlin wasn’t permitted to sit in Arthur’s presence, but more that when he did it was usually because he was doing some work that was more easily performed at the table – and Arthur would usually be on his feet the whole time. Rarely had they sat together in a companionable way here in the prince’s rooms. Merlin settled in the chair just round the corner from Arthur and put his hands together on the table, trying to appear relaxed.

The prince seemed to drift back into his thoughts, but after a moment he commented, ‘It has been a strange few days…’

Merlin nodded in agreement, but then thought about it, and smiled. ‘That’s Camelot for you!’

Arthur huffed a laugh. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’ He quickly sobered again. ‘Merlin… There was _one_ thing which has been driven home to me lately. Though I said it light–heartedly enough at the time. You cannot help who you fall in love with.’

‘You were enchanted.’

‘I wasn’t talking about the Lady Vivien.’ Arthur sighed. ‘I have long been reflecting on the notion that… a person can care for more than one person at a time. Genuinely care. The songs won’t have it that way, but what we find in life is more complicated. You spoke of _one true love_ , Merlin, but I don’t think it works that way.’

‘No,’ Merlin slowly agreed. He might have argued not so long ago. Before Freya. ‘I guess it doesn’t.’

Arthur spoke very brusquely now: ‘I know that Guinevere – cares for me –’

But he broke off, and a difficult silence stretched. Merlin eventually offered, with equal amounts of wariness and humour, ‘Weren’t you going to kill me if we ever spoke of this again?’

‘Shut up, Merlin, you know what I meant.’

‘Yes, sire.’ All right, Merlin did know that. Not in public. Not in daylight. Only when it was the two of them, alone, in the safety of the prince’s rooms somewhere around midnight.

‘Guinevere cares for me,’ Arthur eventually continued a bit harshly as if that were the only way he could get it out. ‘But she cares for Lancelot as well. Perhaps as much if not more. If he hadn’t withdrawn from the field… Well, I don’t doubt they’d be together by now. They might even be married already.’

Merlin looked carefully at the prince, at his pinched mouth and pale face. He didn’t seem overly bitter, but Arthur certainly wasn’t happy.

‘And then there’s _you_ , Merlin,’ the prince added, looking up – and his gaze was suddenly _deep_ with Merlin’s very soul.

_‘Sire!’_ he gasped, as if penetrated with one long stroke for the very first time.

‘You have told me how you feel about me. And yet there was this girl you cared for. You said you loved her.’

‘Yes,’ he said on another gasp. Laid bare.

‘And then there’s…’ The prince looked away at last, withdrew into himself a little. ‘Well,’ he eventually said, more brusquely still, ‘you know how I feel.’

‘Yes.’ Merlin smiled, though even he knew it was a bit shaky. ‘I’ve learned something, too, Arthur. Love is stronger than anything. Stronger than magic, stronger than destiny. If you want to marry Gwen, then you’ll find a way.’

Arthur glanced at him in surprise, and then settled into a contemplative frown. ‘Why are you so… How can you have been so supportive of my… feelings for Guinevere? I would hardly be so generous towards Lancelot.’

‘Would you not?’ Merlin asked lightly. He sincerely doubted that, but rather than argue the point he continued, ‘Gwen has the best heart of anyone I know. She’s kind and warm and – and you care for her, and she for you. I can’t imagine anyone better for you. Or for Camelot.’

‘Well –’

‘And you _will_ have to marry one day, won’t you, Arthur? There must be a queen when you are king. And then another prince, or two, or more – and some beautiful princesses…’

Arthur was looking at him thoughtfully. ‘And you, Merlin? What of you?’

‘I’ll happily serve you till the day I die, sire, I’ve promised you that. If there comes a day when you no longer require…’ He glanced towards the bed, but the point hardly needed to be reinforced. ‘If one day you no longer require certain duties of me… then I will… withdraw from the field. But I’ll still serve you in every other way.’

‘Merlin –’

‘I’ll miss you!’ he cried out, his voice cracking. ‘I love you, Arthur. You know that. But I’ll be whatever you need me to be.’

‘ _God_ , Merlin…’ The prince leaned forward, his blue eyes afire. ‘How can you be so damned _reasonable_ about this?’ But then, only a moment later, the prince sighed and sagged back in his chair. ‘Tell me something you want, there must be something I can do or bestow…’

‘It’s not like that, Arthur.’

‘Well, indulge me. Let me grant you a favour of some kind. You’re not the sort to appreciate a distinction at court – nor indeed do honour to it –’

‘Why, thank you, sire,’ he said with smooth irony.

‘– but there must be something.’

Merlin thought for a moment, and then grinned. ‘Climb up to my window one night. When your ribs have mended.’

‘Are you mad?’

‘Yeah, but you asked! You scaled a castle wall for Gwen, and climbed up to the Lady Vivien’s room. Do that for me.’

‘The towers here are a lot smoother than at Hengist’s castle. Even _you_ could climb those.’

Merlin laughed. ‘Yeah, I know.’ He shook his head, happy enough that the prince hadn’t just dismissed the notion outright. ‘Nah – for real? If you mean it. Just come to my room one night. Come to _my_ bed.’

Arthur looked at him dubiously, but after a long moment he nodded, just once yet decisively. ‘When my ribs have healed.’ And then he lifted a hand towards Merlin, and said, ‘Now, come. It is time to perform those particular duties of yours…’

♦

An old familiar configuration. Arthur lying on his back with his hands shaped to Merlin’s thighs, with Merlin lifting and falling over him, lifting and falling in a rhythm that might have begun with time itself. ‘Arthur…’ he murmured as he gave himself over and over again, as Arthur filled him with destiny and an unspoken friendship that Merlin was beginning to suspect would stand any test the world cared to throw at it. ‘Arthur…’

‘Yes,’ the prince said, low and intense. ‘Yes.’

‘Love you… I love…’

_‘Yes…’_

Merlin’s arms had been suspended out to each side, his hands seeking balance from the air, but now he reached one hand to rub fingerpads either side of the hard nub of Arthur’s left nipple, reached his other hand to echo the caress on his own. Merlin moaned at the mirrored sensations as the pleasure given augmented the pleasure received –

– and Arthur’s breath hissed through his teeth, his hands shifted to Merlin’s cock and balls, caressed them firmly yet tenderly. ‘All right?’ the prince asked.

‘Yes. _Yes!_ ’

And Arthur triggered Merlin’s climax, then cried Merlin’s name as he pushed up hard within him, coming with a deep torn groan that might have had as much to do with his poor ribs as with pleasure. He was muttering, Arthur was muttering, something indistinct that included Merlin’s name, something that sounded almost as if he were chanting an incantation.

‘Love you,’ Merlin was murmuring. ‘Love you…’

Until eventually they were both done, and the ragged rhythms fell away into peace, and Merlin collapsed down onto the bed under the prince’s left arm. Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin’s temple. ‘Thank you,’ he said, in an easy honest tone.

‘You’re welcome,’ Merlin replied, in just the same way. ‘Goodnight, Arthur.’

And Arthur didn’t wish him goodnight, but he kissed Merlin again, and that was even better.

♦

Merlin hoped he wasn’t becoming soft, but it was true he didn’t sleep quite as well in his own bed any more. He wasn’t sure whether that was more to do with the lack of the prince or the lack of the prince’s mattress. That night he was plagued with nightmares. Cornelius Sigan had returned, and ravens were cawing, and the gargoyles had come to life, scrambling round the rooftops and scratching at his turret window – and then pounding at it, trying to get in. Merlin moaned a little in fright, though part of him knew it was just a dream, knew that even if it wasn’t he could destroy the evil creatures, explode them into rubble… But they knew his name, and that creeped him out badly. _‘Merlin…’_ They hadn’t known his name last time.

Then suddenly it was morning, and he was late, and Arthur was shouting for him. _‘Merlin, god damn it!’_

‘Coming, sire!’ he mumbled, pushing himself up in the bed, bleary and thick–headed.

Except that it was still night, it was still dark, and Merlin flopped back down again. He’d had those nightmares before, the ones in which no matter how fast he dashed here and there throughout Camelot, no matter how quickly he completed his chores, no matter how very hard he tried, he was always late and the prince was always furious.

**_‘Merlin!’_ **

He sat up again. No, that was real. Arthur. But not in Merlin’s room. And not in the main room, shouting like that. Gaius would be up already if that were so, and he didn’t hear Gaius stirring.

‘Merlin, if you don’t wake up and open this godforsaken window **_now_** , my arms will give out and I will plunge to my death on the stones below, and **_you_** will have to explain the whole sorry thing to the king my father.’

By the time the prince was through that tirade, Merlin was standing on the table just below the window, which was now open, and Merlin was beaming at the prince who clung tenaciously to the wall just beside it. ‘Arthur!’ Merlin cried in delight.

‘I hate to think who else you were expecting.’

‘No one but you, sire… Not that I was _expecting_ you –’ Merlin felt giddy with exuberance. ‘I knew you could do it! Those smooth walls weren’t going to stop you. Not the crown prince of Camelot!’

‘Oh for god’s sake, Merlin, just get out of the way and let me climb in.’

Merlin tried to help, quickly realised that he wasn’t helping at all, and got down out of the way. Once Arthur was inside and standing there stretching out his shoulders, shaking out his hands, Merlin exclaimed, ‘You did it! You climbed the tower for me!’

‘Yes, well – don’t expect me to _ever_ do it again.’

‘Once is enough, sire. Thank you.’

Arthur just nodded absently, still focussing more on the effort he’d expended and what it might have cost him than on Merlin. And it was true the prince was looking a bit scuffed, a bit flushed.

‘Are you all right?’ Merlin asked tentatively. ‘D’you want –’

‘I’m fine,’ Arthur replied, with a note of exasperation. ‘This had better be worth it,’ he added, casting a dark look in Merlin’s direction. ‘I really have _no_ idea why I put myself to so much trouble, when you’re actually such an easy lay.’

Merlin blinked. And then he said, with an attempt at their usual bantering tones, ‘I’m only easy for princes, sire. In fact, I limit myself to crown princes these days.’

Arthur was looking rather shamefaced, but he made the same kind of attempt to retort. ‘You’d better be thankful. You’d better show me some _real_ gratitude here…’

‘Where’s my rose?’ Merlin demanded.

Arthur shot him a withering look, and then replied with more of his usual confidence, ‘About a hundred yards below us on the paving stones. Perhaps you’d like to go fetch it?’

‘That won’t be necessary.’

‘Didn’t think so.’ Arthur glanced at him assessingly, and then ventured, ‘Told you you’re an easy lay…’

‘Where’s my kiss, then?’

Arthur growled, but then suddenly strode closer, grabbed Merlin by the shirt, hauled him in for a devouring kiss.

Neither of them got caught up in it – the situation was too odd, too new for that. But they were both eager enough, both getting hard while still standing there in each other’s arms, kissing and holding and pressing up close together.

Arthur eventually cast a disapproving glance at Merlin’s narrow bed, and commented, ‘We should both undress before we get in, I think. There seems to be little room for manoeuvring.’

‘Yeah,’ Merlin agreed, even as he reached for the hem of Arthur’s shirt.

Soon they were naked and Arthur was lying back on the bed, bringing Merlin down with him to lie atop, their legs interwoven. Arthur’s hands ran strong down Merlin’s back, cupped his rear, encouraged him to begin a slow rocking rhythm so that they were thrusting against each other, their cocks beside each other, hungry for more.

Despite which, Arthur shifted his shoulders irritably, and asked, ‘How can you possibly sleep in this thing? Or, indeed, do anything else.’

‘The anything else happens… elsewhere. In a bed fit for a prince.’

‘So it does.’

‘Anyway,’ Merlin commented, ‘it’s no less comfortable than that bed you take with you when you’re hunting or travelling. And it’s more comfortable than the ground – which I know very well you’ll sleep on when you have to.’

‘That’s different.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes.’

‘All right,’ Merlin agreed. He leaned in for a kiss, and increased the pressure a little, upped the rhythm. Arthur’s hands blessed him for that, and then asked for more.

The heat began to build between them at last, the need, and Merlin wondered if they would manage to lose themselves in the passion after all. Arthur seemed to relax a little, become more involved, and there was something about how his thighs widened and opened below Merlin that prompted memories of the night the prince had wanted Merlin to fuck him. Merlin gusted a needy sigh, and ran one hand down Arthur’s side to slide beneath his rear, to push his fingers towards the place he found himself yearning for… Merlin lifted a little to watch the prince, and he saw Arthur’s expression was softened, surrendering.

‘Arthur…’ he whispered. ‘Arthur, d’you want me to…’ And he dug his fingertips into the prince’s firm buttocks to make his point.

‘Not tonight,’ Arthur answered with a sigh. ‘Not here. No.’ But his eyes promised _soon_ and _in my bed_ and **_yes_**. ‘Just… d’you remember when you… when I was in the chair, and you…’

‘Just… rubbed against you?’

‘Yes. That. Do that.’

‘All right,’ Merlin agreed. And he set about it with a happy heart. ‘I love you,’ he murmured as Arthur finally began to sink into the pleasure of it.

‘I – I climb towers for you,’ Arthur softly retorted.

‘Well,’ Merlin quibbled, ‘just the one, anyway.’

‘Isn’t that enough?’

‘That’s more than enough.’ And Merlin settled in close so that he could kiss the man.

♦

Afterwards, as they lay there together, seed sticky between them but both too contented yet to move, Arthur commented, ‘I _like_ that you love me, you know.’

And Merlin replied, ‘I like it, too.’

♦


End file.
